Take a Hit
by MzShellSan
Summary: Merlin gets injured when he and Arhur are ambushed a few hours from the citadel. Dedicated to Schweet-heart for day 11 of FicMas


**25 Days of FicMas**

**Day:** Eleven

**Dedication: **Schweet-heart

**Fandom: **Merlin

**Pairing: **Merthur

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Merlin

**Take a Hit**

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Arthur hadn't been able to see it coming. The arrow had been shot from above with no way to avoid it but he couldn't help but blame himself.

Laying on the ground was Merlin with an arrow sticking out from his leg awkwardly. Blood was seeping through the cloth of his pants and all Arthur could think was _'please no.'_

Merlin was pale, the colour draining from his face quickly as he looked at him.

"Watch out, you clotpole!"

Shaking himself from his shock, he heeded Merlin's warning just in time to parry the blow going his way.

Steeling his focus, he quickly worked his way through the other two bandits, taking care of them quickly so that he could turn his attention to Merlin.

"You idiot," he cursed, as the last one fell.

Stepping over their dying corpses, he knelt next to Merlin, examining the wound carefully.

"Oh I'm sorry _Sire, _was I meant to avoid it somehow?" he asked, his voice strained and the joke falling flat.

"Of course you were, _Mer_lin. You've managed every other time – though how is beyond me."

"I guess I'm just lucky," Merlin grinned, before wincing in pain.

"Come on, let's get you to Gaius so you can get that looked at."

Merlin groaned. "Don't wanna get up," he complained, not at all encouraged by the warm feeling around the wound. He was almost definitely going to get an infection and it's going to _suck._

"Don't be such a girl's petticoat," Arthur scoffed, leaning down to help him stand.

Merlin winced at the pressure on his leg. "We're going to need to apply pressure to my wound to help stop the bleeding," he informed Arthur.

"Right."

Ripping a strip of cloth from Merlin's tunic, ignoring the squawk his servant gave as he used it to wrap around the wound, careful not to jostle the arrow that was still in Merlin's leg.

"You're not very good at that," Merlin joked, clearly trying to lighten the mood as he made a final tie in the fabric.

"Oh do shut up. You'd think you'd be less annoying when you're injured," Arthur cursed.

Wrapping his arm around Merlin's waist, he ignored the pleased feeling his had at the way his servant melted into his side, allowing Arthur to take some of the weight off of his body.

Merlin grinned, trying not wince at every movement as they made their way over to where they'd tied the horses up. "Don't be ridiculous. If I die then I have nothing to fear. It would only make sense that I be even more annoying then usual."

"You aren't going to die," Arthur denied, rolling his eyes to cover up the way his mind froze at the very thought.

He wasn't sure when he'd become so attached to Merlin, a mere servant, but at some point the peasant boy had wormed his way into his heart and now he couldn't imagine having to wake up in the morning to anything but his cheeky smile and irritating cheeriness.

Helping Merlin onto the horse, mindful of his servant's leg, he frowned at the silence.

"Merlin?"

"What? I thought you wanted me to be silent."

"You aren't going to die," he repeated the words more firmly and couldn't help the way his heart ached when Merlin didn't respond in kind. Swinging his leg over his own horse, he quickly settled into a trot, relieved when Merlin seemed well enough to keep up.

"You can't control everything Arthur. I'm losing blood quickly. But if I die, then you have to know that it was worth it. I'm happy to die as your servant – as one of your men."

"Merlin, how many times do I have to repeat myself?" Arthur ground out, "you _are not_ going to die."

"But if I do-"

"No."

Merlin sighed and remained silent for the moment, his breath coming out in pants.

"Hold a little longer, Merlin. We're only another hour from the Citadel. You've always been a useless servant but surely even you can mange this much," Arthur informed, glancing over at where Merlin was beginning to slow.

He was looking even paler now and Arthur frowned when Merlin seemed to sway. A moment later and Merlin fell forwards, unconscious.

Letting out a curse, he halted, stopping his own horse and Merlin's to dismount.

Lifting Merlin, he cursed when he realised that he wouldn't be able to bring the horse with him if he and Merlin were both on one horse. He'd just have to send someone to look for it later.

Swinging back up after he positioned Merlin, he settled into a canter.

Merlin would not die.

It was a few days later before things were starting to look up. Gaius sent word that Merlin had woken up and he'd all but rushed to his servant's side to check that he was going to be okay.

He wouldn't admit it, but over the previous days he'd been a concerned wreck, mind always wondering back to whether or not Merlin was okay.

Stepping inside the Physicians work room, he couldn't help the internal sigh of relief that seeing Merlin chatting with Guinevere caused him.

"Oh, Sire," Guinevere gasped, turning to curtsey. Glancing between them, she smiled at Merlin. "I'll leave you two alone then."

"You can stay if you'd like," Arthur offered, more out of politeness then any desire for her to take the offer.

She seemed to understand that as she shook her head, "I'm afraid I should be getting back to my Lady anyways. I'll speak with you more later, Merlin."

Merlin smiled as he waved her goodbye.

"So, you survived after all," Arthur started awkwardly.

"Must've been because you told me I had to. Even the universe bends to the will of the great Arthur Pendragon," Merlin teased without a beat, mirth twinkling in those eyes.

Snorting, Arthur rolled his eyes. "Of course it does. Not everyone is as disrespectful as you are _Mer_lin."

In true Merlin fashion, the other man simply stuck his tongue out at him. "_Someone_ has to be."

"Are you forgetting who I am?"

"A prat?"

"Merlin," he warned, but Merlin just grinned brightly.

"Ahh, I forgot. You're a _royal_ prat," Merlin corrected.

Arthur sighed, shaking his head like hearing the familiar banter wasn't soothing his very core and righting everything that had been wrong over the past few days.

"Never do that again," he ordered finally.

Merlin titled his head in confusion – God he looked cute like that. "Call you a royal prat?"

"Almost die."

Something in Merlin's eyes seemed to shift and the feeling of dread that he'd felt at seeing Merlin suffer from the wound days prior loomed in the background of his mind.

"I can't promise you that," Merlin said finally.

"Why not? As your Prince, I'm ordering you to _never_ do that again."

Merlin shook his head wryly. "I didn't know you cared that much, Sire."

Arthur flushed slightly at the accusation, crossing his arms in front of himself. "Hardly. It's just difficult to find a manservant as amusing as you are these days," he insisted.

Chuckling, Merlin smiled at him, and fuck, why did he look so soft? So fond? What could _he_ have possibly done to deserve that?

"Well I'm sorry to say that I still can't promise you anything. I'm willing to die so that you can live and that's never going to change."

"I refuse to let me."

"You don't really have a choice," Merlin retorted, huffing.

Biting his lip, Arthur had to admit that he was right. "You never did like doing what you were told," he grumbled.

Merlin winced at the sad look that was forming in Arthur's eyes. "I can promise to try to be more careful, if that helps?"

"It'll have to do," Arthur muttered flippantly.

But his eyes were just a little brighter and the dark thoughts dissipated slightly from his mind. Merlin was still here and he wasn't _planning_ on dying; he was just declaring his ridiculous level of loyalty.

"I expect to see you back at work in two weeks time. That's the maximum time I'm willing to deal with George and his brass polishing jokes," he informed after a beat of silence.

The laugh Merlin released was much too happy for someone who was injured and would likely still be hurting in two weeks time.

"Clotpole."


End file.
